


the boy with the stars in his eyes

by frankscastle



Category: Rebel Without a Cause (1955)
Genre: Angst, Bi!Jim Stark, Feelings, Funeral, Jim/Judy - Freeform, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, implied polyamory, spoilers if u havent seen this even tho the movie is hella old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-06-08 12:51:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6855436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankscastle/pseuds/frankscastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John looked at him, making eye contact with Jim. He'd never seen such pretty eyes on a boy before, a soft chocolate brown with flecks of green. They shined like stars with the sort of broken, dangerously innocent look to them made his heart pound as he nervously asked, "Why didn't you take my jacket?" It comes out as a mix of angry and confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the boy with the stars in his eyes

The first time he offers is the night he's dragged into the police station. The first time he offers is when Jim likes to think everything starts.

Jim had sat on the shoe shining seat, just finished being reprimanded for loudly imitating the wails of the police siren outside. His stomach swirled, the contents of his earlier affairs threatening to spill out. Even this drunk he knew that puking up everything would just make things worse. The several drinks coming up wouldn't be as fun as they'd been going down.

That's when he spotted him. He was tanned, with a mop of black hair too wavy to be curls on top of his head. He looked to be around Jim's age, maybe a year or two younger. He was curling in on himself where he sat, shivering a bit and rubbing his arms with his hands. A plump, dark skinned lady stood beside him, reprimanding him then touching his hair worriedly.

"You're shivering John. Are you cold?" She asks.

Jim figured walking a bit would help to sober him up a bit before his folks came to the station, although he also would really like to stay drunk and loose from the heavy weight on his shoulders.

He climbs down form his seat and stumbles drunkenly over to the two, tugging at both sides of the collar of his suit jacket. "Hey...you wan' ma jacket?" Jim slurs, head bobbing and eyelids slightly drooping. "It's warm." He slides it off, holding it out to the lady when the boy (John) doesn't say anything in response.

She attempts to put it around him, but the boy shrugs it off. Jim looks at him in concern and the boy shakes his head, giving him a weak smile. Jim's stomach flutters, and it wasn't from the alcohol. The lady hands him back his jacket and he reluctantly hangs it over his shoulder, feeling rejected as he heads back to his seat.

A few moments later, he hears the boy being called in.

_"John Crawford?"_

The lady with him answers, "Yes sir?"

 _"Come with me, John."_ The lady and the boy slowly get up and make their way into the man's office.

His mother, father, and grandmother arrive soon after. They question where he'd been saying that they'd gotten a call from the club. He'd ignored them after his father mistook his sarcasm for humor, abandoning the conversation in favor of tapping on the glass of a window. It was the window to the office where the boy, John, was being questioned.

John looked at him, making eye contact with Jim. He'd never seen such pretty eyes on a boy before, a soft chocolate brown with flecks of green. They shined like stars with the sort of broken, dangerously innocent look to them made his heart pound as he nervously asked, "Why didn't you take my jacket?" It comes out as a mix of angry and confused.

A man calls his name, interrupting the eye contact he had been making with the boy.

After that is practically a blur to Jim. He remembers glimpses of his relatives' conversations with each other and the officer. He recalls his breakdown which was quickly dismissed by his family just like the idea that he shouldn't be drinking alcohol as a minor.

He knew at that time that things had changed. For the better or worse, he hadn't known exactly.

* * *

The second time he offers his jacket is that night in the planetarium. It was one of the last moments he had with the boy.

The police surrounded the place, announcing he and Judy were in the area after they'd run past.

Judy was behind a wall, playing lookout in case and officers stormed in. Jim was in front of the closed room, addressing Plato through the door. "Plato," he says softly. "You in there?" There's no response. "You're my friend plato...that means a lot to me." He grips the handle. "Hey, I'm gonna open the door now." It creaks quietly as he opens it. You can shoot me if you want to." He wasn't really worried about the gun being aimed at himself. Sure, Plato could probably kill him, but he was more worried about Plato running off and hurting other people or himself. Jim didn't want him to go and do another stupid thing, so he had to be careful with what he said and did around the boy.

Plato still refuses to answer Jim. "Okay." The door collides with the wall, a bang echoing throughout the hallway Judy was. "Ooh, boy. I'm blind as a bat," he jokes. "You got a match?" He slowly walks into the room. "Gonna break my neck in here...where are ya?"

_"I've got a gun."_

Jim almost rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know." He keeps his tone steady as he moves to the control panel. "Hey, light a match, will ya?"

_"No."_

Oh, how stubborn his boy could be at times.

"How are ya?" Jim asks.

 _"I'm fine..."_ He answered _,_ suspicion coating his words

"That's fine." Jim hits one of the switches, causing the projector to move.

"Jim? Do you think the end of the world will come at nighttime?" He heard from his spot by the control panel.

"Nuh uh." The projector continued to moved slowly with a _wirr_. "At dawn," he answered Plato. Jim craned his head, trying to get a glimpse of the hidden boy. "Come on now, heh." He gave a dry chuckle. "Where are you?" He slowly makes his way to the frame surrounding the projector. "What're you hiding for? Just stand up." His eyes stay trained to the space above the frame. "How can I talk to you if I can't see you, Plato? I can't talk to you if I can't see you. Come on stand up." He attempts to coax him out. "You've seen this show before. Come on." He glances up. The galaxy is now projected onto all the walls and ceiling above "You see that star right there...Plato? Stand up, look at it." He was a bit irritated the boy wouldn't stand up. "Well I can't talk to you if I can't see you. That's all there is to it." Jim tosses his hands up and lets them fall loosely to his sides.

Jim leans against the wooden frame, facing away from where Plato was hiding. He realized that maybe Plato was scared of not only the cops, but of Jim too.

He crosses his arms. "I'm not gonna hurt you or anything like that. I just want to see that you're okay." Plato hadn't made a sound, but Jim had felt his warm breath fan against his ear.

"Why did you run out on me?" Plato's voice was heavy with hurt.

Jim swallowed, guilt washing over him as he attempted to explain what happened, though he didn't let his voice reveal his emotions. "We didn't run out on you. We were comin' right back, I told you."

"You sure?" Plato questions, his voice shaking with insecurity.

He turns around to face the boy, giving him a reassuring smile. "Sure I'm sure." Plato meets his gaze, those eyes that Jim loves staring back at his own. "Judy's here. She's waiting, come on." Jim nods at the door. Plato shakes his head. "Come on." Jim takes a few steps then stops. The boy hasn't moved an inch and he probably won't for a while. "No? Not ready to come out yet?"

"No." Plato's bottom lip quivers and Jim gives in, leaning over to prop his head on his folded arms that lay on the flat top of the frame.

"No? Okay. Promise you nothin' will happen if you do."

Plato walks backwards, stopping and hopping up on the stage where the projector was set. "No..." He gives a little shiver and his hands rub at his arms. It was considerably cold and Jim was certain the boy was freezing even if he had his sweater on.

"Are you cold? Here." Jim slides off his jacket, not giving Plato a chance to answer. "It's warm. Here." He holds it out to him. "My jacket, it's warm."

"Can I keep it?" Plato asks hopefully.

Jim grins. "Well, what do you think, heh?" He watches with pride as the boy hugs it to his chest and breathes in his scent. Jim bites his lip. "Hey, now can I have the gun, Plato? You wanna give it to me?"

Plato looks at him in confusion, almost as if he had forgotten where he was and what was happening. "My gun?"

"Yeah, in your pocket. Give it to me." Plato slowly slid it out of his pocket.

He hesitated before clutching it to himself. "No," he said, "no I need it."

Jim sighs in disappointment. "Don't you trust me, Plato?" He gazed up at him through his eyelashes. "Just give it to me for a second." Plato blushes, handing the weapon over to him. He grunts at the weight. "You been carrying this around all day?" He huffs. "Now there's a..." He faces the door, quietly taking out the bullets and slipping the mag in his pocket. "...a lot of people out front. Plato. Plato?" He was wearing Jim's jacket by now.

"You promised to give it back," he says.

Jim nods. "Friends always keep their promises." The other boy goes to take the gun, but Jim pulls it away. "But...these people, um..." He scratches at the back of his head. "Please know, all of them- every one of them want to see that you're safe," he pleads with Plato. He shakes his head at Jim. "...and- oh. Here." Jim hands the gun back to him. "They said I could come in here and I could bring you out and-"

" _Why_?"

"Why? Well, because they like ya. Okay?"

"Come on..." Plato gives him a crooked smile.

"Yeah." He fixes the collar of the jacket on him and claps a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go." He leads the boy out into the hallway.

Judy stands up, hesitantly greeting him. "Hi, Plato."

"Hi." Plato shifts in place nervously, glancing at the front entrance window. They were illuminated by the multiple lights outside most likely from the police. "It's too bright."

"Yeah," Jim agrees with him. "Okay, I'll fix it." He makes his way to the open bars of the door, calling out, "Is Ray Frameck still out there?"

The man in question speaks through a blow horn. _"Yes, I'm here."_

"Turn out those lights!" Jim commands. "If you do, we'll come out!"

 _"Okay. Turn your lights out,"_ the man addresses the rest of the officers.

Jim sighs in relief and jogs back to the two in the hallway. Judy has Plato's arm in hers, as if he was escorting her to a dance. "See? Come on." The three smile at each other as they walk.

Jim has Plato wrapped in one of his arms, holding him close to his body comfortably. They barely take a step out of the doorway when Plato stiffens like a deer in headlights. "Who's that?" He asks frantically.

"Relax, it's just a guy."

"I shot at one of them..." Plato says. He's shaking hard in Jim's embrace.

He squeezes Plato to him, looking over at Judy and encouraging her to do the same. "It's all right. You didn't hurt him," Jim comforts.

"Those are not my friends! Make them go away." Judy keeps the younger boy in place, rubbing his arms.

Jim tugs the flaps of his jacket together. "You want me to make them go away? You want me to fix it?" He nods at the taller boy. "Okay." He pulls away and moves to walk closer to the steps, putting his hands above his head. "Hey, Ray. Can you make those guys get back?" He asks the officer. "You don't have to worry about anything. Here." He pulls out the bullets, holding them in the air with a closed fist. "Ray, keep the guys back."

The lights go back on. Jim's heart speeds up. No, no, no. He doesn't like the lights, Plato doesn't like the lights. " _NO!_ Don't turn on the lights it's too bright! Plato doesn't like- turn off the lights!"

"Jim!" Comes from Judy.

Everything happens so fast. He turns to see Plato struggling out of Judy's grasp, the gun in hand, brightly shining from the lights He rushes to Plato, trying to grab his legs and trip him before he can run off. He manages to get ahold of one foot, but it slips out, leaving only his shoe.

Then there's the gun shot.

Jim watches in horror, time slowing down, as Plato falls to the floor. His entire body goes cold, chills running up and down his spine. They shot him. Him... _his_ Plato, _his_ John; one of the few things that was able to _help_ him.

 _"John!"_ Someone screeches. He notes it's most likely his nanny.

"I got the bullets!" Jim screams at the police as his vision clouds with tears. Everything is blurry and his head pounds with the beginnings of a headache. "Look!" Hands grip each of his arms and there's a scuffle with other officers and his father. He's too weak to try and fight their grasp.

He can't pay attention to anything other than Plato's unmoving body. Jim crawls to where the boy lay on the concrete. He cradles his head against his stomach. A pool of blood is beginning near his feet, but he pays no attention. "Hey, jerkpot..." He mumbles to the boy, hoping by some chance he may be alive. "...what'd you do that for?" He sniffs.

His father says something, but he can't hear him. Everything sounds muddled and unclear. Plato's eyes are closed. "Come on, John...open up and show me those beautiful doe eyes of yours." He nudges his shoulder a bit. "I gotta see the stars again, how am I gonna be able to if you won't open your eyes?" There's no response.

He lets out a small sob and moves down to his feet. His pant leg is pulled up, showing his red sock. Jim pulls the shoeless foot out from under his leg and sees that Plato was still wearing the blue sock from earlier.

Jim begins to laugh through his tears, but his heart isn't really in it. "Look at..." His laughter dies out and he lets out another sob, grabbing onto his father's legs for dear life like he used to when he would get afraid of thunder. He was afraid now, only it wasn't of thunder.

"You can depend on me," his father says. "Trust me. Whatever comes, we'll face it together. I swear it." He pulls Jim up.

When he realizes his father is moving him away from Plato he resists against his hold. The police put his body on the stretcher.

Jim watches the nanny cry, holding back a sob while she leans over Plato's body. "This poor baby got nobody. Just nobody." But that wasn't true, Plato may not have his mother or father, but he had Jim and Judy. He had the girl who thought of him as her own flesh and blood and the boy who wanted nothing more than for him to be happy.

Jim's father lets go of him and he stiffly walks over to the stretcher. Judy follows, with the boy's shoe in hand. She slips it onto his socked foot while Jim slowly zips up the jacket, placing a hand on Plato's chest.

_"He was always cold..."_

* * *

The funeral was 2 weeks later. Jim hadn't been able to sleep or eat properly night they lost Plato. He didn't go to school the weeks following _the night_ and neither did Judy. She'd visit him every day to make sure he'd get just enough food to keep him going so that he didn't end up starving to death. If it wasn't for her, he'd have done it.

On the day of the funeral, Jim dragged himself out of bed to get ready. He showered, brushed his teeth, and changed into his suit. Then went into his closet where the red jacket he'd given to Plato was hung up and took it out. They'd changed him into nicer clothes for when he'd be buried and Jim had refused to let them throw away his jacket. His father had managed to convince the police to give it back to him.

His father drove him, his mother, and his grandmother to the cemetery, where Judy and her family met them.

There weren't many people, just Jim and Judy with their families, Plato's nanny, and officer Ray. The casket was hovering above a big hole dug underneath, there was a stand with Plato's picture- faking a smile. Jim wish he'd taken a picture of Plato before all of this turned to a mess. A picture of Plato smiling- actually smiling, because he'd show off his pearly whites whenever he was around him and Judy; only when he was around them he'd smile and it'd light up Jim's whole world.

While the weather wasn't dreary, nothing seemed lit by the sun. Sure, it was hot and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, but Jim couldn't help but feel like everything was a bit more dim. Nothing was as bright to him anymore. It was almost as if there was a filter on the world as he saw it.

Jim stood a few feet away from the casket with his jacket slung over his shoulder and Judy beside him, his hand clasped in hers. Their families stood off to the side along with the nanny and Ray.

The priest was in front of the casket, spouting off about god and trying to be dramatic when talking about how dearly Plato would be missed. Jim just wanted him to shut up for one second so he could quit contributing the migraine he had.

Once he was finally finished talking and the service was over, the nanny bid her goodbyes to Plato, then she left with the priest and the two teenagers' families.

Jim stared at the body in the open casket. There the boy lay with his hands together over his stomach, eyes closed and unmoving. He wore a navy suit with a black tie and a white button up.

"I..." Jim released a shaky breath. "I never got to tell him."

Judy rested her head against his shoulder. "I know."

"I loved him. Still do," he confesses.

"I know." She squeezes his hand and gives him a weak smile. "I love him too. Although not the way you both loved each other." So she did know. "I love you as well, Jim. I've accepted that you don't love me. Plato was always the one for you. Even if I tried to delude myself, it would never leave my head."

Jim tightens his hold on the jacket. "I'm sorry-"

"It's okay, none of us can help the way we feel." She sighs, looking on sadly at Plato.

Jim lets out another breath and steps closer, reaching out to touch Plato's hand. It's cold and stiff...he's really gone. Jim winces, trying to hold back the tears, but they come anyways.

He sniffs and lays the jacket over the boy. "Take my jacket, Plato. It's warm." He brushes his hand against a cold cheek. "I wish you'd have been able to open your eyes one last time for me. You were always the boy with the stars in his eyes... _my_ boy with the stars in his eyes."

Judy comes closer to him, placing her hand on Jim's neck comfortingly. "Come on, Jim, let's get you home."

Jim puts his hand on top of hers as they turn to walk away. _"He was my home."_


End file.
